


Happy Birthday (More or Less)

by pied_pollo



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, 6+1 Things, Based on a Tumblr Post, Birthdays, Criminal Minds Season 7, Drinking, Facetime, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gapfill, Gen, Humor, I'm Sorry, Sad Spencer Reid, Team as Family, The Halloween Bet™, kind of, only in the end though, well it's more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pied_pollo/pseuds/pied_pollo
Summary: 6 times Garcia and the team celebrates each other's birthdays (and one time no one does)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 198





	Happy Birthday (More or Less)

**JENNIFER**

JJ was surprisingly hard to plan for. Garcia had to dig deep into her life in order to find something, because all she had to go on was Will and Henry. Did she want something big? Was she good to settle with a simple gift? If so, what? Garcia was stressed.

And then she realized she didn’t need to do a deep dive. All Garcia had to go on was Will and Henry, yes, but she could definitely use that.

She confided in Emily, who agreed. They got their supplies and went to work.

JJ knew that everyone else knew it was her birthday, but was kind of bummed out when no one said anything. They were all acting strangely aloof; giving her curt “happy birthdays” and sneaking around, whispering to one another. It was sort of disappointing.

Until she walked into her office.

“Surprise!”

JJ laughed out loud. At her desk was Henry, and the rest of the team, bouncing excitedly.

“You guys!” JJ exclaimed, then stopped. “Isn’t this against regulations?”

“I had to pull a few strings,” Hotch admitted, his face contorted into something that wasn’t exactly a smile but seemed on the happy spectrum nonetheless.

Henry reached out with grabby hands and JJ pulled him into her arms. It was then she noticed the book.

“What is this?” she asked, turning to Garcia.

“It’s an album,” Garcia explained, carding through the pages. “We called people up, had them send photos. It’s all the children we’ve helped together, as they are now! Do you like it?”

“Like it?” JJ echoed, thumbing through the pages.

“And some pages are empty,” Spencer piped up, “to save room for future kids.”

Morgan grinned. “Happy birthday, JJ.”

“Oh, _come here!_ All of you!” JJ exclaimed, setting Henry down to give everyone hugs.

“Will’s almost here to pick up Henry,” Emily said, looking down at her phone. “Sorry, Jayje.”

JJ smiled and waved her hand, before bending down to give Henry a kiss on his forehead. “No, it was perfect. Thank you--all of you.”

“Only the best for our one and only,” Rossi hummed, patting her shoulder.

And it was, indeed, the best.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**MORGAN**

Unlike JJ, this was effortless. Garcia spent her entire _year_ planning the best birthday for her Chocolate Thunder.

Here was the plan: Garcia decorated her cave, wall-to-wall, in streamers. Ornaments. Balloons. Go big or go home; the room was packed with fun. Earlier that day, everyone celebrated at Morgan’s desk with cake, and that was good, but it was nothing compared to what happened after.

Every year, Garcia and Morgan had a happy birthday in the cave, and Morgan and her would drink sodas, listen to music, and have a good time. But it was 2011, and something new had been invented. Garcia frantically pulled up a tab on her computer and logged in. Then, she stood in front of the desktop to hide the screen, holding a pair of orange sodas in waiting.

Morgan entered, grinning widely.

“Oh my goodness, I need-need- _need_ to show this to you!” Garcia giggled, passing him a drink and using her free hand to drag him into a chair.

“This is new,” Morgan commented, “what is this?”

“Do you know what FaceTime is?” Garcia asked.

“No...what?”

Garcia typed something into an upper bar, and a loud ringing filled the room. Eventually...

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Mom?”

On the screen was Morgan’s mother. Her image was staticky, but it was there nonetheless.

“ _Happy birthday!”_

“Garcia,” Morgan said softly, “did you do this?”

“Yep, yep! Do you like it?”

“I _love_ it! Mom, did you know?”

Morgan’s mother lifted her eyebrows, smiling knowingly--Garcia now saw the mother-son resemblance.

“Come here, you!” Morgan laughed, hugging Garcia tightly.

Garcia spent her entire year planning the best birthday for her Chocolate Thunder, and it was always the best. But this year topped them all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**HOTCH**

Hotch was...difficult, to say the least. They didn’t know when his birthday was, at first--Garcia was skeptical that Hotch ever _was_ a child--but after a bit of digging, she found out that his special day was the next day. The next day? Oh, dear.

So that’s when Garcia held a Super Secret Emergency Family Meeting in her batcave. The team, sans their Unit Chief, crowded in the enclosed space and tried not to break anything while Garcia pulled out a list and hurriedly gave everyone tasks. She was willing to go big or go home--balloons, sparkles, cake, everything!

That was, until Rossi pointed out that Hotch doesn’t like birthday parties.

Garcia deflated. What now? No one deserved to celebrate their birthday alone--not on her watch. It really took the “happy” out of “happy birthday”.

They made a plan.

The next day, Hotch ran a tired hand over his face and turned on the light to his office. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed a small package on his desk, wrapped in pink paper and tied off neatly with a fluttery ribbon.

Hotch pulled out his phone. “This is SSA Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Patch me in to bomb squad, there’s a suspicious package on--”

“No, no, _no!_ ” Garcia cried, rushing into the office. The rest of the team was hot on her heels.

“Garcia, get back,” Hotch ordered, holding out his arm in front of them.

“Sir, that’s from _us_ ,” Garcia explained hurriedly. “It’s not a bomb!”

Hotch blinked.

“ _Agent Hotchner? This is Sanders with the bomb squad, do you copy?_ ”

Hotch put the phone back to his mouth slowly. “...False alarm. I apologize. Don’t deploy the unit. I repeat, this was a mistake.”

“ _10-4._ ”

Hotch hung up the phone and looked at his team, his eyes hard.

“...Happy birthday?” Emily mustered awkwardly.

Hotch walked to his desk and unwrapped the gift, keeping his eyes on the team. It was a small white box, and inside was a new tie.

Everyone held their breath.

Hotch looked down, took off his own tie, and replaced it with the new one.

Nobody said a word.

Hotch smoothed his suit and turned back to the team.

“Very distinguished,” Rossi remarked.

Hotch put his hands on his hips.

And then he smiled.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

**EMILY**

One word: alcohol. That was a way to give Emily a happy birthday. The problem was that this meant they had to celebrate after-hours, at home. But that was okay--in fact, this specific year, it was a good thing they did.

Emily didn’t need a surprise; she took her birthday into her own hands. Garcia spread the word around the bullpen that everyone was invited to her small apartment after work, and then helped set up. It was a neat little gathering in such a small space, and Garcia was pleased with her handiwork. Rossi brought poker, and eventually, everyone was circled around the board, cards in hands--if you could call it that. Garcia was thankful that they had this weekend off, because people were getting tipsy.

“ _Strrrrraight,_ ” Spencer slurred, smacking a handful of cards on the ground. “Happy Halloween!”

“It’s--it’s not--it’s not Halloween yet, you _idiot_ ,” Emily cackled, smacking him in the head. “It’s _m’birthday!_ ”

JJ guffawed.

Hotch and Morgan exchanged horrified glances with Garcia. They had underestimated their friends’ lack of alcohol tolerance. It wasn’t that Emily couldn’t handle drinking, it was the fact that Spencer had tried to keep up with her shots, and she as well as JJ took this as a challenge.

Now, Rossi scooted their cups away, and Emily whined. “ _Rossiiiii_ , c’mon, gimme!”

“I think that’s enough for now,” Rossi said, patting her knee.

JJ continued to laugh.

Morgan piped up: “Hey, Emily, wanna bet?”

“No,” Emily huffed, then relented. “ _Fine_.”

“I bet,” Morgan said, “that if we get a case, you have to give me that tequila bottle over there.”

Emily twisted around to see the fancy glass bottle on the counter and laughed.

“ _Bet!_ ” she screeched. “ _You ain’t_...uhhh... _takin’ it away from me!_ ”

Spencer clapped his ears against the noise and squeezed his eyes shut, dangerously pale and swallowing convulsively.

“You good, kiddo?” Rossi asked, setting his cards down.

“I don’t feel good,” Spencer mumbled weakly.

Hotch knew that look a little too well for comfort. “ _Up_ ,” he ordered sharply, hauling Spencer to his feet and half-dragging him to the bathroom. Garcia cringed at the sound of painful retching.

“Spencie’s a lightweight,” JJ snickered.

Emily smacked her in the arm. “Don’ be mean, Jayje, he’s a _baby_ ,” she giggled, resting her face in JJ’s neck.

Besides watching her family get absolutely wasted, Garcia and Morgan gave each other a thumbs up: clearly, Emily’s birthday was a success.

That was, until JJ’s phone buzzed.

Silence. The only sound was Spencer, who continued to dry heave in the bathroom.

After a while, Emily blurted out: “ _Shiiit._ Morgan’s stealing my tequila.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**ROSSI**

Everyone knew Rossi didn’t like his birthday. Tommy Yates had ruined it forever. Whenever Rossi left work early to make the long drive to the prison, Garcia would watch him go, feeling her heart break.

But this year, she decided she’d had enough. Yates be damned, Rossi was going to have a good time, and that was that.

She followed him.

Surprisingly, Rossi didn’t seem to notice. At a guess, he was too fixated on Yates to think about much else.

Garcia parked outside the gate and watched him go outside. She pulled the small box from the passenger seat and ensured it was secure. When she finished, she burst out of the car and jogged to his, her heels clacking loudly on the asphalt.

She was about to place her present on Rossi’s car when he noticed her. “Garcia?”

Garcia gulped.

“What are you doing here?” Rossi demanded.

“Sir,” Garcia stammered, “I know that you’re here because of, well, Yates--and I just--I know he, like, ruined your birthday which is why--why, um--you don’t celebrate it! And I thought, ‘well that’s not fair’, y’know? ‘That’s not fair’--uh--‘because Rossi’s such a cool guy’--you really are, sir--‘and he doesn’t deserve to have a bad time’--y’know, because that’s what it’s called, right? ‘Happy birthday’? And it can’t be a _sad_ birthday ‘cause I don’t roll like that, I don’t, and I will not let _scumbags_ like Tommy Yates smoosh your happiness like an old soda can because I care, Rossi! I’m really sorry, it’s just--”

“ _Penelope_ ,” Rossi interrupted, “take a breath. It’s okay.”

Garcia nodded meekly and handed him the box. “I got you a cake. Please don’t be mad.”

Rossi took the box and looked at the cake.

“Oh,” was all he said.

Awkward, tense silence. There was a sad, sinking feeling that Garcia had made a terrible mistake.

But after a while, Rossi looked up. He was smiling. “Thank you, Garcia,” he said softly.

Garcia brightened. “Of course.”

She turned to go, but Rossi caught her arm. “Hey, Penelope,” he said, “I’m going to need someone to share this cake with.”

Garcia smiled. “Lead the way home.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 **GARCIA** **  
**

JJ was hard. Morgan was easy. Hotch was chaotic. Emily was disastrous. But none of that compared to the struggles of making a party for Garcia. Her birthday was coming up, and everyone was panicking.

“What the hell are we gonna do?” Morgan whispered to Emily as they sat in the bullpen.

“No clue,” Emily hissed back.

“You know,” Spencer said, rolling his chair over to sit by them. “Normally, in this situation, I would ask Garcia, but that’s exactly the problem.”

“What’s a problem?” JJ asked as she walked down the stairs.

“Garcia’s birthday,” Morgan explained.

“Garcia’s birthday?” Rossi asked from where he stood with Hotch.

“We don’t know what to do,” Spencer said glumly.

Hotch nodded. “Well, in the meantime, we’ve got a case.”

Sighing in defeat, the rest of the team shuffled to the conference room, feeling helpless. After settling in their seats, Garcia pranced into the room, bright as ever: “Sorry I’m late! Now, we all know what an intimate experience a postcoital shower can be, but James Pratchett and John Kim did not have the most pleasant--what?”

“What?” Rossi repeated sheepishly.

“You guys are looking at me strangely,” Garcia said. She crossed her arms. “I don’t like it, now tell me.”

Everyone looked down, shifting in their seats.

“I thought you’d be better at lying!” Garcia crowed. “I mean it--spill! What’s going on?”

Spencer was the one who broke the dam: “We wanted to throw you a surprise birthday party, but we didn’t know what to do.”

JJ nodded in agreement, eyes round with sorrow.

Garcia chuckled. “Oh, my sweet, oblivious crime-fighters,” she giggled, “you could’ve told me.”

They stared at her, dumbstruck.

“I have a whole _plan_ for all of your birthdays, and that includes myself,” Garcia went on.

“Oh,” Hotch said, lifting his eyebrows.

“And besides,” Garcia smiled, “even if you didn’t do anything, it wouldn’t matter. There’s no better birthday than one spent with family.”

Everyone melted a little bit inside.

“But my family also includes chocolate cake,” Garcia added. “So make sure that’s there, too. And streamers. And balloons. And glitter.”

“You got it, Baby Girl,” Morgan said with a mock salute.

Garcia giggled, and everyone visibly relaxed. This would be the easiest birthday party after all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**(+1) SPENCER**

A schizophrenic break usually occurs in young adults, in their 20s, but not usually after their 30s. Now Spencer just had to count down the minutes.

It was irrational, of course. One, he had never shown any symptoms while he was twenty, but more than that, he knew that turning 30 wouldn’t erase the fear. It would always be there, lingering in the back of his mind, a sad _what-if_ that may or may not ever be brought back into the light.

The clock ticked: five. Four. Three. Two. One…

Happy birthday. Spencer was officially 30.

He didn’t tell anyone, and no one noticed. Spencer didn’t even know if he wanted them to.

So instead, he went home, head bowed, making his way down the elevator and out the doors in complete silence, thinking about birthdays of the past.

He never usually celebrated his birthday. It was a thing for a while, but then his dad left, his mom forgot, and eventually, so did he. Spencer didn’t really see the point in celebrating anyway--he was born. So what? Somewhere out there, a person just died. A person just got married. A person just had their life flipped upside down and another person just finished their coffee. It was a day like any other, and unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

So here he was, sitting in a wooden chair and staring up at the clock, watching time count the number of days he’s had and the number of days he has left.

He didn’t like fuss. Or streamers. Attention made him uncomfortable.

But he wanted a hug.

When he was little, his mom would come down the stairs and wrap her arms around him. She always gave him a book for his birthday, and his dad would ruffle his hair and comment on how lucky he was to have such a good kid.

Not lucky enough, apparently.

So Spencer sat, alone, in the dark.

He didn’t read. 

He didn’t call anyone. 

He didn’t even smile. 

He just watched the clock. 

And he gave himself a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be about just The Halloween Bet™, but then I saw a tumblr post saying that the show never really addresses anyone's birthdays (Besides Spence in s1/7). So, I decided to make it a thing, and I also thought about s7 where Spencer says he didn't tell anyone about his 30th birthday, which made me think "hm, a 5+1" because I've always wanted to do one and this is the result. Oof, I'm sorry Spencer. Truly. Maybe.
> 
> Here's the tumblr post that inspired this: https://criminalmindsgonewrong.tumblr.com/post/621457768153481216/you-know-what-this-is-true-justice-for-all-the


End file.
